


Honor's Legacy

by sansakatara



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen Live, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Harold They're Lesbians Meme, POV Arya Stark, POV Sansa Stark, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansakatara/pseuds/sansakatara
Summary: "Well, it isn't Uncle Oberyn I want walking me down the aisle!"Rhaenys, Arya, and Sansa and an important choice they each make, on a perfectly ordinary day in the course of their lives.
Relationships: Aegon VI Targaryen (Son of Elia)/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Arianne Martell & Doran Martell, Arya Stark & Catelyn Tully Stark, Arya Stark & Ned Stark, Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Bran Stark & Sansa Stark, Doran Martell & Elia Martell & Oberyn Martell, Elia Martell/Original Character(s), Jeyne Poole/Sansa Stark, Ned Stark & Sansa Stark, Oberyn Martell & Sand Snakes, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Honor's Legacy

I.

_Rhaenys_

That's the funny thing about fights. Sometimes all it took was one careless comment, and before things could be salvaged it had all spiraled into a blazing row.

Rhaenys won't remember later what even caused the upset in the first place. It's not worth remembering, as Uncle Doran would soothe. But it is worth remembering the look on her younger brother's face.

Aegon is leaning against the kitchen-top in Rhaenys' flat, arms tanned from the summer sun, crossed. His fringe, dyed a ridiculous blue as the rest of his hair Rhaenys thought, was falling into his eyes. They were a blue so dark that they almost seemed purple in the right light, which sometimes made Rhaenys tease Aegon and say he could belong in some fantasy series, to which Aegon would laugh and claim she was only jealous because she just had boring brown eyes. And Rhaenys would proudly toss her hair and say her brown eyes suited her just well, thank you very much.

But Aegon's eyes were now narrowed at Rhaenys. “I suppose you'll want to tell Uncle Oberyn your side later on. You always prefer him in everything.”

Rhaenys feels as if the last of her patience has been pushed off a cliff, and is now hurtling towards a bloody death below. Both hands on her hips, she finds herself snapping -

"Well, it isn't Uncle Oberyn I want walking me down the aisle!"

At first, Aegon only gaped at her. “You were going to ask me?” His voice was soft.

“I was hoping to ask you at a better time, but y-yes.” Rhaenys chokes, feeling as if though she's about to cry. God, she hates it when that happens. It always makes her feel as though she's somehow swallowed a rock. 

“Nee-Nee, I would be beyond proud that you would even think of me for that.” Aegon’s face is flushed and he was beaming. Nee-Nee was the nickname of their babyhood, when Aegon had been yet unable to master Rhaenys’ name. At hearing this, she feels herself swell with love for her brother and although never a huge hugger, Rhaenys feels the sudden impluse to wrap her arms around Aegon in an embrace.

“Of course, silly. I couldn’t imagine asking anyone else.” 

On one hand, it does feel a little like a betrayal of her uncles. Uncle Oberyn and Uncle Doran had done so much for her and Aegon growing up. But Rhaenys knew deep down the truth of it, that they wouldn't mind. After all, Oberyn would have plenty of chances with his eight daughters. And cousin Arianne had already helped her own father walk her slowly down the aisle, as everyone watched in tears, profoundly moved by the sight of Doran refusing to allow his arthritis to deny him this joy.

She could ask her and Aegon’s stepfather, Lucas, but the truth is while Rhaenys cares for him and is glad he makes her mother happy for god knows her mother deserved the world and more, Rhaenys doesn't feel close enough to Lucas to ask him that. She wonders if it is partly her fault. But then, Lucas had come into their lives when Rhaenys was already seventeen. Growing up, Uncle Oberyn and Uncle Doran had done so much for her and Aegon that they were far more deserving of the title that her own rat of a biological father seemed perpetually confused as to what it meant. And on Lucas's part, he was someone with no siblings and whose parents had died years ago. He had been someone who must not have excepted to have children, so he must have felt a little overwhelmed by Rhaenys, her brother, and an army of step-nieces and step-nephews. 

But her brother?

Her younger brother, maddening as he was brilliant sometimes? Whose honor to have been asked, was a legacy of their relationship? 

If she couldn't have her brother for this, Rhaenys wouldn't have wanted anyone else.

II.

_Arya_

After finishing the last of her touches, Sansa put down the blush and gazed at Arya. "That'll do," She declares. 

"Gee, I hope you've done a little better than that'll do," Arya replies. She feels stupid for fussing over something like that, but it is her wedding. She's allowed to be a little vain today.

Sansa rolls her eyes. "It's not as though you're paying me for this, Arya."

"There is an open bar, though."

At this, Sansa laughs. "True enough." Then her face softens. "You look beautiful, Arya." 

"She's right." Their mother has come into the room now. Catelyn Stark is the picture of loveliness that only Sansa could rival, wearing a sleek and navy blue caped dress. Her auburn hair is pulled up in an elegant up do. Her eyes are shining proudly at Arya. "Are you ready, sweetling?"

Arya took a deep breath. "Yeah, I think I am."

Her mother pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed delicately at the corner of her eyes. "God, I'm not sure if I'm ready to do this yet! I just want a few more moments with you before I lose you."

"You're not losing me, Mama." Arya thanks the old gods and new that Sansa had the sense to use waterproof mascara. "Our family is gaining someone new, through Gendry."

Catelyn chuckles. "You're right." She gazes back at Arya. "You know, I always thought your father would have a harder time than me today when you girls got married. He always saw you as his little girls. Well Sansa surprised us all when she eloped, and you - Well, you always were so adamant about never marrying."

"I was like nine, Mum."

Suddenly, there is a knock on the door and Arya's father appears. Seeing his wife and daughters, Ned beams. "Are you ready?" He asked, addressing Cat and Arya.

"That's my cue." Sansa leaves, ready to fulfil her duty as bridesmaid. 

Arya's parents both take an arm each. In the background, Arya can hear the velvety tones of the hired singer for the bridal processional. Today, both her mother and father would walk her down the aisle.

After all, the woman was important too.

III.

_Sansa_

After years of dreaming of a perfect wedding, Sansa ends up surprising herself by how utterly perfect this is, as she and Jeyne spoon-feed caramel chocolate cake to each other, giggling. They've gotten married at a court-house today, completely on a whim. As they had gone to a different state for a holiday, their marriage was registered with the interstate. Sansa thinks absentmindely that if their families were here, she could have asked her father or maybe Bran. But it didn't matter. Jeyne and her would organise a party for them all, Sansa promises herself. And she didn't want anyone giving her away, if she was honest. She had enough of people thinking they owed her. Only Jeyne was worthy of her. And it was her and Jeyne that Sansa wanted to focus on, as her girlfriend- no _wife_ , pulled her in for a kiss. 


End file.
